I, Morph
by IceBlade28
Summary: Kishuna was wrought by human hands and left to rot. Until Lyn appeared. Kishuna centric. One shot.


IceBlade28: Yet another somewhat-inspired one-shot by me.

Serra: gets out tissues I'm ready.

IceBlade28: Not quite. This one is definitely _not_ a romance. And it isn't gory, like my semi-flop Flesh And Blood.

Serra: Than what is it?

IceBlade28: This is a fic bringing to light one of the most ignored, and most mysterious characters in the game: Kishuna.

Serra: The creepy magic seal dude?

IceBlade28: The very same. A Kishuna-centric fic.

Serra: Ohhhh, okay.

IceBlade28: A special mention to keaira19 for helping me bring this idea to life- much like Kishuna. It's also a late birthday fic for her- to a friend who persevered through unnamed trials and held tight to the bond of friendship. Start the fic!

**I, Morph**

Life. A bitter reflection of what is to come. A thing which is sacred. A thing not supposed to be tampered with. It is said that those who meddle with the powers of life are damned beyond redemption, that they face an unholy death.

My father faces this now. This man who calls himself my father; Nergal the Dark Druid. My creator. My creator decided, in what he calls his 'infinite wisdom', to give me emotions. But I do not think he is wise.

Though I wonder- if the three children of destiny stop my father, what shall become of me? Will I die, like many humans do? My father gave me life. Will the children of destiny take the life I have? Or will they let me keep my life? Only a human female may give birth and life to another human. This I know. My father is not a female. He is a male. This I also know. Am I then an accident? Nergal said he gave me life, like Elimine gave life to all of Elibe. But the humans who dwell Elibe are human.

Am I human? I have emotions like a human. I think and look like a human. But I have no voice. No words shall ever come from my mouth. But I have met humans who cannot speak. Does this then make me human?

Somehow I do not think so. I have the power to make non-humans; to make copies of the people I see. They are not very good copies. Their eyes are blank and yellow. They are morphs. They do what they are told. Not like me. I did not do what Nergal told me to do. He used to be happy with me. He called me his finest achievement. But in giving me emotions, he also gave me a heart. A heart that can find truth. I found the truth about him. How he used the souls and lives of other humans to make himself strong. I pushed him away. I wanted to stop him. I taught myself a strange power: the power to make his magic nullified.

He was angry with me. My father shouted at me and condemned me. He left me to rot in a stone temple. I do not mind. It is a nice stone temple. But the children of destiny are coming. They must pass through here to reach my father. I am scared- I do not want them to kill me. I fear that they will look at me and say 'Morph!' and kill me.

But I am not a morph. I think and feel and see for myself. I have many emotions. Not like the more powerful morphs my father spoke of. Ephidel and Sonia and Limstella. Did they have emotions? Perhaps. But they were constructed emotions. I have decided for myself what emotions feel like. Perhaps this is why Ephidel and Sonia are dead. They listened to my father. I think Limstella will die too. Does this mean I am the last morph? Except I am not a morph. Am I the last not-a-morph?

In some ways, I am scared of many things. I am scared of what I am. I am scared of who I am. I am scared that I will die and no-one will care that I have died. There are few enough who know that I am alive. Will they . . . miss me?

It is not death itself I fear. I am not a human. I cannot die as a human can. But if I perish, where shall I go? Will Elimine let me see her?

I am curious about Elimine. She made all humans. She did not make me. Nergal made me. Am I an abomination? I wonder if I have the life-giving material my father spoke of: quintessence. If I have quintessence, can it be harvested? I do not think so. Only my father can harvest quintessence. He must come to me to take my life. He cannot do so. I have my power. He cannot use his magic around me. Nobody can use their magic near me. But I can use my magic.

The children of destiny are here. They have walked through the doors of my old stone temple. They know I am here. The angry blue one is saying how he must kill me. I knew it. They would look at me, and call me 'Morph!' and use their weapons to kill me.

I am not sure that I care if I die. No-one will miss me. Perhaps I will welcome death. It would be a nice change. All I have now are my thoughts and the copies. Is it right for a copy of a human to make copies of humans? I am not human, and I am copying the copies of my father. A copy making copies of copies. Is this inhuman? Inhuman like me?

The female is holding her sword and facing me. Her name is Lyndis. I like her. She has a good heart. I have never met her before, but I can tell. I can tell many things about people. This is how I know that Lyndis has a good heart. I cannot tell her this, because I cannot speak. I wonder if she knows she has a good heart. It would be nice to speak. It would be nice to tell her of her good heart.

Lyndis can tell things too. She says my magic is sad. I wonder how magic can be sad. I know I am sad. Sadness is an emotion. I have emotions. That is why I am feeling sad right now. I have change my mind: I do not want to die. It would be nice to live. Perhaps I would not be shunned by these three children of destiny. Not like my father. He shunned me. I would like it not to be cast out. It would be nice to be welcomed. But it can never be. I can tell. Lyndis will kill me, because she thinks she has no choice. She does have a choice, and only I can tell her so. But I cannot speak.

Lyndis has hurt me. Her blade is stuck inside my chest. She looks sad. Does she know of the things I have thought? Perhaps she can tell. I knew she was good at telling. I want to tell her that I do not hate her. I like her. I do not blame her for killing me.

Everything is swirling. But I am still thinking. I wonder where I will go when I am dead. Perhaps Elimine will cast me out too. Perhaps I will be unwelcome and have to walk in darkness forever. Perhaps there is no afterlife.

I wish I could tell Lyndis my name before I die. It would be nice to know I am not forgotten. If only I could speak a word before I die, it would be my name. But I cannot tell her now. Because I am dying, right now. How I wish that words might emanate from my mouth . . . death is coming. I cannot stop it; everything is numb. The nice stone temple is going black.

I, hated morph of Nergal, abomination before Elimine and living magic seal, am dead.

"Kishuna . . . ."

IceBlade28: Well, it was a nice one-shot.

Serra: It's sad . . . and I can't figure out why.

IceBlade28: Yeah, I guess it was kinda sad. Reviews would be much appreciated- they tell me if I did well!


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